More Mayhem, The Merrier
by potsiesgirl
Summary: It's Christmastime in Capeside and as less than charitable wishes are flung far and wide, for two in particular, a certain tradition instigates an unexpectedly tender encounter. Season Six Series, Story No. 5
1. Chapter 1

_Once upon a time in a galaxy not entirely unlike our own, there was a girl. There was nothing extraordinary about this girl. She was by her own estimation a relatively simple sort, yet she was cursed. For as long as she could remember, her romantic life had been something of a disaster. Boys either fell too hard, too fast, or not at all. She had long since given up on the notion of a functional relationship, which is why, in the winter of her 19th year, she was surprised to find herself in the company of a boy who made her feel as if the curse had been lifted... if only temporarily._

Joey Potter stood in front of a department store window, staring down at a festive faux-town covered in holiday trappings, and wondered, _Could one be cursed by love?_

She did not believe in curses. But she _had_ learned to believe in love. At least that it _existed_. Though the jury was still out on the _lasting_ part.

See, Joey Potter was in love. Well and truly. She never thought it would happen again, that it could be possible. She thought she was destined to be the girl trapped between two childhood friends, the girl that made The Choice That Changed Everything, the one that could never let go of the past, no matter how hard she tried. Yet, she was in love. With a nice boy _not_ from Capeside, but from Worcester. A different boy. A boy that allowed _her_ to be different. With Eddie Doling, Joey got a brand-new blank slate. And the third time was a charm, right?

_So...chocolate or vanilla?_ she asked him, enjoying the alien notion of actually getting to know a boy she loved. From scratch. No prior iterations to get in the way. Even this, just walking beside him as snow drifted down around them, holding his hand in a city that she had only one year's acquaintance with, was a fresh and vitally diverging experience. 

_Chocolate_, Eddie replied, casual and cavalier as he walked alongside her.

_Cake or pie?_ Joey inquired next, squeezing one of his hands between both of hers, her woolen mittens keeping the chill of winter away, yet not preventing the warmth of this boy's hand from permeating through, making her giddy.

_Pie,_ he responded, smirking, sliding a wry sidelong glance at her.

_Coke or Pepsi?_

_Coke._

_Christmas or Halloween?_

_Halloween._

_That settles it,_ Joey pronounced. _We have nothing in common._

_Well, the sex is good,_ Eddie drawled, sardonic.

_Please,_ she huffed, raising an arch brow. _I had better sex in elementary school._

This, of course, was not true, as she did not have actual intercourse until well into high school, but this was verbal footsies. Harmless contrivances were part and parcel. Besides, for once, she did not feel her usual skittishness, and that was a favorable sign pointing to the emerging fact that yes indeed, the third time – or rather, third partner – was the charmed one. 

_Ok. Are we done with this month's Cosmo compatibility test?_ Eddie asked now. _Can we just get on with our lives?_

_Not so fast. I have one more question._

And she asked him, sort of, if he'd like to come home with her for the holidays. To Capeside. To her family. Also, to her friends. And then, _Wow. I just crossed a line into that world where girls pressure their boyfriends into doing stuff with them, and then-- I just referred to you as my boyfriend. I'm a mess. I apologize._ Eddie accepted her apology, but she rescinded it, quick. _You know... actually... Eddie, I take that back. I want you to meet my dysfunctional family. I want you to help me convince my retarded sister that we should buck tradition and throw out our stupid fake Christmas tree and get a real one for a change. Is--is that wrong?_

At first, she thought she mucked it all up. This getting to know a boy you were in love with was a treacherous business. No past dynamic of over-analytical assessments nor bully-banter and body-blows – once literal, then figurative – at the ready for a quick and dirty exchange. No childhood anecdotes to rely on for blackmail or bargaining. No known key to put into this lock of a door opening into the unknown. He was unfamiliar, this Boy Not From Capeside.

_Ok. First of all, I have a dysfunctional family all my own, so I won't be celebrating with a TV dinner under a bare bulb, if that's what you're worried about,_ Eddie interjected, before Joey could careen further into neurotic speculations of should and shouldn't says. _And second-- I don't know if it's such a good idea at this juncture. _

_What juncture is that?_ Joey asked, truly curious. The thing about taking roads less-traveled – or _not_-traveled, as her case may be -- was that you were forced to keep asking these godforsaken questions, letting the boy lead for a change. Joey did not usually like to let the boy lead. But then, she'd only loved two other boys before. And they always had all the answers between the three of them.

_Well, the juncture of too much and too soon._

We're even, then.

What does that mean?

Joey giggled. She actually giggled – no scowls or retorts or wordy defenses. _It means that clearly I'm a typical girl and, based on what you just said, you're very much a typical guy._

Hey, you know, meeting the family's a huge deal, especially this time of year, Eddie clarified. _I mean, I'd probably have to put on some kind of a sweater. You know, like a holiday sweater. And I gotta tell you, I hate sweaters. I look stupid in sweaters._

I bet you look very nice in sweaters, Joey contradicted, reassuring. She was enjoying this back-and-forth with Eddie.

_All right, pencil me in for president's weekend. I'll be there. I promise._

Fine. But don't think we're ever having sex again.

Eddie laughed, mocking.

_What?_ Joey protested. But her dark eyes twinkled.

_What a typical girl, using sex as a weapon._

_Shut up,_ she replied, just this side of warning. Eddie took the hint.

_You're very pretty. Have I told you that?_ he said, tossing her his best charming grin and winsome puppy-dog eyes.

_Sucking up will get you nowhere,_ Joey retorted.

But of course, this as well was a harmless contrivance.

And, Joey determined, whether or not she believed in them, so too would be curses.


	2. Chapter 2

He brought me a real tree.

Joey was not expecting him, thought she pushed too fast, too soon. But Eddie showed up on her doorstep the very next day, bringing with him the scent of pine and bark strapped onto the roof of his car. On himself, a sheepish grin hovering over the requisite Christmas sweater.

Yes, Joey Potter really, really loved Eddie Doling.

_I was right, you know_, she said, her lips bending up into a half-smile.

_About what?_ he asked, sending her a bemused glance.

_You do look very nice in a sweater.___

_Yeah, well, I still hate 'em.___

_So what made you change your mind?_

Eddie made his way up the porch steps. Joey kept her eyes on him as he came closer to her, amusement glimmering in her dark eyes, lighting them amber. Already, just the sight of him was becoming so very near and dear to her.

_I missed you_, he said, draping his arms around her waist to pull her toward him.

Joey was giddy. When a boy you like says he misses you, it really does such a nice little tap dance in your heart. She felt like Fred Astaire in there.

_I missed you,_ she replied, wanting to jump for joy, but retreating into habitual sarcasm instead. Unconditional sweetness was not her habit. A girl had to keep _some_ semblance of herself while falling for a guy, didn't she? _Well, you can go now. I wouldn't want you to be at the critical juncture of too much too soon for too long. _

_Oh, shut up. Come here._

And Joey did, happily leaning up to kiss Eddie. Her Christmas blessings had just begun.

What a fucking Norman Rockwell Twilight Zone.

Audrey peered all around her at the down-home country, Christmas holiday-decorated interior, sniffing out the smell of homemade, barely-rum-spiced egg nog. She preferred heavy on the rum. _Very_ heavy. Heat emanated from the actual fire burning in the hearth on the other side of the room. It was too hot. Audrey preferred those cool-gas-powered flames you got at the flip of the switch out in non-snowy Southern California. Right now, she actually preferred California instead of Capeside too. Pulling out the small flask she always kept somewhere on her body, surreptitious, she swallowed another long swig. Vodka was her liquor of choice these days. When it slid down her throat, smooth and potent, it reminded her that she was still breathing.

_Isn't it a little early to be knocking 'em back, Audrey? Even for you? ___

_Drinking doesn't count on days when you fly. You know, I always have to get sauced to fly the friendly skies, you know. It helps keep the voices down in my head that tell me I'm seconds away from plummeting to my death. ___

_I don't know, Audrey. You better be careful. You might be spending the next semester in rehab. ___

_No, rehab. Rehab is for quitters._

That conversation with Joey, back in their dorm room in Boston, tweaked at her, like a gnat buzzing amidst her thoughts. Looking outside, searching for different distraction, Audrey caught her erstwhile roommate out on the front porch. She was not alone. At first, Audrey's heart dropped, in the split-second she imagined that perhaps the boy embracing her now was the one she had just let go. Well – it was a mutual letting go wasn't it? Or rather, _he_ let her go first. She was still smarting over that.

But no, Joey was having a tender moment with…Eddie? Eddie was here? Oh great, Audrey thought, dourly amused, yet another of Jo's Boys to contend with. Wait? Wasn't that a book by someone famous? Shit, she should've paid better attention in the few classes she managed to attend this semester. Getting a glimpse of Joey's expression – glowing and happy – she could tell the girl was in that first flush of giddiness which comes from lots of new sex and plenty of best-behavior intentions. That dangerous period when extra super hormone activity is often mistaken for love.

Love. Such bullshit. And so was Christmas.

_Audrey, I'm not letting you spend the majority of Christmas day drunk on an airplane with a motley assortment of sad travelers. ___

_To tell the truth, it sounds way better than intruding on someone else's holiday. ___

_Look, you wouldn't be intruding on anyone's holiday. Trust me. Dawson's mom is inviting everyone to Christmas dinner, which...sounds like a recipe for disaster, but at least we'll all be together. _

How did she get here? She could have said "No", refused to come out here with Joey, declined this attempt to "normalize" her again. She knew that's what Joey was trying to do. Because Joey pitied her. And Audrey hated to be pitied. So she said "Yes", to spite herself. But now, she was stuck out here. Tonight, she would be with these morons who were pretending to be her friends. As well as her ex-boyfriend, who would _not_ pretend to love her.

Audrey took another swig of her vodka then tucked it well and truly away. Watching the couple out on that front porch, the lines of her face set themselves to grim. A heavy step behind her made her turn around. Mike Potter stood there, rumpled and wary, his gaze flitting over her shoulder at the couple outside the window and then to Audrey before him.

_What do we know about this guy, Audrey?_ he asked, the casual tone masking a more pointed interest.

Oh, Daddy was getting his back up now, was he? All determined to protect his Princess Josephine.

_Hmm. Chip on his shoulder, blue on his collar. I don't know. Joey seems to like him_, she answered in with a careless wave of hand.

_Is it serious? _

Well, yeah, girlfriend missed a final because she was too busy fucking the boy's brains out. Audrey smirked but reined her tongue in.

_Oh, well, like a heart attack, because you see, Eddie seems to be able to incorporate all the best elements of Pacey and Dawson, so it's like the T-1000 of love interests_, she said instead, giving Mike Potter a context he could understand better. These Capesidians seemed to only see the world through the lens of that tiny little town. Besides, the man had been in prison. Maybe normal sexual relations were not something he was intimately familiar with these days. Hmm…

_Interesting_, Mike said, mulling over her answer. But Audrey was on to another topic much more fascinating to her.

_Quid pro quo, Mr. Potter. What can you tell me about prison?_

So he was here. Eddie had been thinking about their little back-and-forth during that stroll in Boston and could not get Joey's face – uncertain and hopeful – out of his mind. The yearning in her expression touched something deep inside of him. Triggered this action today. He had like yearnings – for a more promising future, for optimistic goals, even for love. Could he possibly love Joey Potter?

It wasn't that he was incapable of love. He loved a girl once, during a summer that seemed overflowing with possibility, a few blissful months before his future back then was yanked away. By a throw of a dice and a drunken exhortation to keep on going when he really shouldn't have. During an impromptu trip to Las Vegas that was the ultimate destination after scattered trips to Atlantic City throughout the years. Scattered trips that engendered heavy but reversible losses. But Vegas was different.

No, Eddie would never understand the mind of an inveterate gambler, what would entice him to stake everything on one turn of a tiny little square smattered with black dots. Would never understand how said gambler could come back to his only son and tell him all of the money saved for his expensive but necessary Worthington education was gone. All gone. How could someone lose that much money in one night? How could one night change the entire course of his own planned-out destiny?

So he lost his love after that summer as well as his bright Worthington future. That girl went off to Harvard and met someone else, an upwardly-mobile attorney that she married just last year. They lived in Virginia and were expecting their first child. That dream skittered off to places unknown, leaving in its place a grittier eye on life. A less hopeful one, wary of optimistic intrusions. Eddie worked odd jobs, scrimped and saved, keeping his mother and himself with a roof over their heads and food on their table, just barely. Keeping his father well-tended to at an addiction clinic that also cared for hopeless gamblers, upon his mother's insistence. She loved him. Eddie could not understand that kind of love.

Yet this past year, the familial ties that bind inevitably yanked at him. His father was not well. Though "cured" of his gambling (Can one really be "cured" of such things?), the years of hard manual labor and the toll of his "gambling guilt" wreaked its havoc on him. So they were reconciling. Just a little bit. Eddie would do anything for his mother. Including, perhaps, forgiving his father.

And there was Joey Potter, who breezed into his life, unexpected. Breezed? More like bull-dozed. She was antagonistic, somewhat self-absorbed, often declarative, and dragging her own share of bulky baggage behind her. She had a guy from home she was not completely over, a murky past he was still unsure of, and a chip on her shoulder to match his own. They were a couple made in hell. Yet here they were.

On a porch at a house in Capeside, surrounded by snow and cold and burgeoning fragile expectations. She was warm, snuggled in his arms. And just now, her lips were hot against his own.

Hell, why _not_ team up and try for a slice of heaven?

There was nothing more to lose.

Joey kept peeking out on the porch from the kitchen window, worry crinkling her brow. She left Eddie alone with her dad. It looked like they were having a pleasant enough conversation. But faces can often belie words.

"Quit spying on Dad and your boyfriend out there," Bessie said, her tone tinged with exasperation and a slight trace of disparagement. She stretched up to reach a mixing bowl that Bodie insisted on using to whip up some new-fangled confection. He wanted Joey to bring it over to the Leerys for Christmas dinner that night. A dinner they were not attending, for this was their year to trek over to Connecticut to have Christmas dinner with Bodie's family instead. "It's not like he's gonna kill him or anything. He was in the slammer for drug trafficking, not murder."

"That's _so_ not funny, Bess," Joey snapped back, keeping her eyes on the two men outside.

"Seriously, sis, just chill," Bessie replied, setting the bowl on the counter before her. "It's the first boy you've brought home that Dad's actually here to meet. You don't think he wouldn't have done the same to Dawson or A. J. or Pacey if he was around back then? Oh and Jack…shit. I forgot about Jack. That gay thing threw me for a bit."

"Bessie!" Joey said, turning around this time to face her sister.

"I'm sorry!" Bessie answered. " I didn't mean anything by that. I'm just sayin'…"

They rolled their eyes at each other.

"By the way," Bessie continued. "Speaking of 'back then', Pacey called earlier while you were sleeping. He says he has a surprise to show you later when you guys go to Dawson's."

"A surprise? No clues?"

"It's _Pacey_, Jo. When would he ever make anything _that_ easy for you?"

"Good point."

"Hell, I'm surprised he was even up before you. He was always the one _you_ had to drag outta bed." Bessie paused. "That came out weird. You know what I mean."

This made Joey laugh, recalling all the times she had to call Pacey back repeatedly every morning during senior year to wake him up so that he could get ready, drive over, and get them to school on time. He would always doze off after each attempt until a final one where she would loudly threaten bodily harm or would whisper all the things she would withhold from him if he did not _get up, right now!_ Then, there were the few times – exceedingly rare – that Bessie did not know about. When Pacey would keep her from dragging him out of bed with more pleasurable distractions. And in the end, it was he who had to drag her out of the bed to tend to their more mundane daily responsibilities.

Joey flushed a bit remembering this now. She felt a little guilty because Eddie was right there, outside the window on that front porch. With her dad.

Joey went back to peering, perturbed, out the window.

_Ahem. It's beautiful out here, huh?_ Eddie asked, breaking the proverbial ice.

_Yeah, it is. So, uh, tell me about yourself, Eddie,_ Mike said, affable. But not.

_Sure. What do you want to know?___

_Uh... where do you go to school? ___

_I don't, actually. ___

_You graduate? ___

_No. I never really went. College and I, it never really took, you know. ___

_Yeah, I see. So, what do you do for a living?_

Eddie felt the flush heating up under his collar. The one that arose whenever college and his way of living became the topic of a conversation. When it became the centerpiece of an interrogation. _Well, I'm actually in between occupations at the moment. I was tending bar for a while, but that didn't work out. So I guess now I'm just take some time off, you know, figure out my next move. ___

_I see._ Mike's tone did not match his words.

_Hey, you know, your daughter is great, Mr. Potter,_ Eddie put out there, reaching for something, anything, that they could find common ground on. This was a sure thing.

_Yes,_ Mike answered, measured in his demeanor, _she is._

Pacey thought it was a good Christmas, so far. Of all the Christmases up to this point, this one definitely rated up there near or at the top. He'd had a couple of pretty good ones when he was a toddler, when family members indulged their obligations to get awesome shiny toys for all the little brats hanging on their legs throughout the previous year. Yeah, he made good use of that period when the awesome shiny was fine, before he got old enough to actually care about the thoughts behind the gifts. Before he realized those thoughts for some reason did not count for much amongst this Witter gang.

But man, did he put some serious thought into Christmas presents this year! And backed it up with the _bling!_ To prove it. Because finally, he _could_.

Yet now, after letting him test drive his zippy new ride and giving him a watch worth probably a third of his current salary, Doug had to turn around and start busting his balls. On Dawson's front lawn, no less.

_Pace, can I ask you something? ___

_Sure. ___

_This job of yours, is it on the up and up? ___

_"On the up and up"? You sound like you're 50 years old, Doug. You sound like dad. ___

_Look at it from my perspective, Pace. You come home with this new car, you got flashy new clothes, expensive gifts for the whole family. Excuse me if it seems just a little too good to be true. ___

_Right, right. I forgot. Yet another reason why it sucks to be a Witter, 'cause you can't just be happy for me. You couldn't just, I don't know, say, be proud of me. You actually have to accuse me of being involved in some sort of illegal activity. ___

_Pacey, I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just wondering how much you know about your place of employment, that's all. ___

_What is this, man? You should be happy for me. Are you jealous or something? Is this about how much money I've been making? ___

_I don't know. Maybe you're right, Pace. Maybe I am jealous, I don't know. Or maybe I'm just worried about you._

Yeah, this Christmas sure had been a good one. Until Doug had to ruin it with his doomsday intimations of a shady reality. Now he was irritated and feeling punchy. What he wouldn't give for some magic elixir to return him to his prior good mood.

"Pacey!"

Turning, Pacey found Joey trudging up the path towards the house, bundled up in layers of winter wear. A grin stretched his face and, after a quick glare at Doug and a jerky motion for him to precede him into the house, he turned to stride over to Joey, meeting her halfway.

"Hey, Jo!" he greeted, reaching down to engulf her in a happy bear hug. She responded in kind, her slim arms wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

Stepping back afterwards, she looked him up and down, smirked, and then asked, "So what's the surprise?"

Pacey took her by the shoulders, turned her, and then placed his arm around her waist, bringing her in a little closer to his side, as was his habit. He gestured toward a brand-new gleaming BMW parked in the driveway.

"May I present, my new ride!" he proclaimed, proud.

"That's quite a car you have there," a male voice commented behind them.

Pacey swiveled around to find a bemused young man standing there, eyes fixed upon his arm encircling Joey's waist in such a familiar manner.

"Oh!" Joey exclaimed, twisting out of Pacey's hold to step closer toward Strange Unnamed Guy. "This is Eddie," she said, giving him a name and a context.

Oh, this was _That Eddie Guy_.

"Hi, I'm Pacey," he said, offering his hand. That Eddie Guy took it, shook it, and let it go. Efficient and crisp. Just this side of too much so. "Um, I guess I'll meet you both in there?"

"Yeah," Joey said, her smile a little too straight, a divergence from its usually crooked state. "We'll see you all inside."

Pacey shared a quick look of understanding with Joey, tossed a nonchalant glance at Eddie, and then went into the Leery house, leaving them behind to sort out their neuroses before facing the myriad of ghosts from Christmas past and present inside. Come to think of it, he had a few to face too. Audrey was in there already, having arrived with Mike Potter, Jen and Grams earlier on. Jen had called him on his cell to tell him, to prepare him. As he stood at the front doorway, he paused, taking a deep breath.

All holidays were cursed. 

_So, this is the guy from the No Doubt concert who's also the same guy from the movie set?_ Eddie asked, his eyes following Pacey up the pathway.

_Dawson,_ Joey clarified, watching Eddie watching Pacey, who finally stepped into the house after a very long pause on the threshhold. _Yeah._

_Dawson. Right,_ Eddie repeated, dropping his eyes and then turning to Joey. He had not even met Dawson yet and he was already feeling unsettled by this other guy. So much baggage. _Yeah, and why are we here again?_

_Is it gonna be all right for you?_ Joey asked, concerned.

_Yeah, I got no beef with the guy, and if he's got beef with me, you know, I think I could take him. ___

_Well I don't think it'll come to that, but it's good to know. ___

_The question is, Jo, is that will it be weird for you?_

Joey shrugged and did not meet Eddie's inquiring gaze. _Well, yeah. I mean, that's just the way it is. That's the way it'll always be,_ she said, her tone no-nonsense though her mood was sadly wistful. The things one becomes resigned to as they grow older. _But look, don't worry. We're gonna have a nice, civil Christmas dinner, and then we're out of here. ___

_What, no dessert? I do like pie, you know_, Eddie said, bringing lightness back just in time to reroute the mawkish turn her thoughts were taking.

_As I recall. I was hoping we could find some time to be alone tonight,_ Joey pointed out to him, taking his hand in hers.

_Yeah, well, you know, I have to spend some own time with my family, you know, but I was thinking maybe—_

_I'd love to,_ she interrupted, squeezing his hand, their palms warm and reassuring pressed up against one another. Holding a boy's hand was the best feeling in the world.

_You don't even know what I was gonna say. For all you know, you could be agreeing to an act of sexual congress. ___

_So you weren't asking me to come home with you? ___

_No, I am. ___

_Well, like I said, I would love to. ___

_Cool. And I promise my family will be a lot less intimidating. ___

_What do you mean?_ Joey asked, suddenly at attention. That damned front porch.

_Nothing. It's just, you know, is your dad always so hard on prospective suitors? ___

_Why? What did he say to you?_

Eddie hesitated a brief moment as if considering something and then he slipped his hand from hers to slide it across her shoulders, hugging her to him. _Nah, I'm just teasing. Forget it. _He dropped a placating kiss onto the top of her head.

_I'm not gonna forget it. Eddie,_ Joey persisted. _If my dad was rude to you, I want to know about it. ___

_You know what? He wasn't rude at all,_ Eddie countered, his hand poised on the front doorknob. Joey told him the Leerys left the front door unlocked at all times so they could always just walk right in without knocking or ringing the doorbells. Especially during the holidays. _He seems like a really great guy,_ he said, just before turning that knob, opening that door, and ushering them in, effectively ending their conversation.

In Dawson's bathroom, Audrey fished through the medicine cabinet, looking for goodies that were not available in your standard-issue stockings by the fire. Coming across some prescription bottles, her eyes lit up, and she quickly took a pill from one of them, swigging it down with a glass of water. A ubiquitous seasonal tune drifted through her head and she started humming.

_Santa Claus is coming to town…_ she warbled, off-key.

Audrey chuckled, none-too-happy. Everyone had arrived – all Capsidians present and accounted for. Dinner was ready. Time to face the music out there instead of making this music in here. Making her way to the dining room, she staggered while walking. Vodka was definitely not good for one's balance. The first person she laid eyes on –that bothered to lay eyes on hers – was Jen.

_So where the hell is Jack?_ Audrey asked, loud.

_Are you drunk?_ Jen asked, hazel-green eyes reflecting concern with that inquiry.

_Yes, but that does not explain where Jack is. ___

_In Europe with his dad and Andie,_ Jen explained, watching her carefully

_Dope!_ Audrey exclaimed, doing her best impression of Homer Simpson as she dropped herself into a chair, effectively cutting off The Grams, who seemed hell-bent on taking that very one. She took a different chair next to Jen, instead.

But that exclamation elicited a quick, surreptitious glance from Pacey at the side of the table, which was what she had intended. Upon his arrival just moments before, he had greeted her with a hug and a seemingly genuine inquiry as to her general well-being. Audrey would have rather he tossed her onto the dinner table, legs up in the air, and greeted her with a great Christmas bang, shocking all assembled. But of course, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't have done that even if they were still together. Which they were not. And had not been, for quite some time. And _of course_ he was sitting right next to Princess Josephine, who had her Prince Charming-in-Training seated on her other side. Boy, that girl sure knew how to line 'em up before spitting them out!

Now, Gale Leery was asking, _Evelyn, would you like to say grace?_ looking at Grams, primly settled in her seat.

Before she could reply, Dawson's British director-dude, Todd-Something-or-Other, chimed in, _I wouldn't mind leading us in prayer, Gale._

Great. We're gonna invoke The Christ now. Audrey slumped back in her chair, attempting to hold her rising puke down.

Merry. Fucking. Christmas.


	3. Chapter 3

It barely registered to Dawson when Audrey lurched into the dining room. While she loudly greeted Jen at the other side of the table, he was thinking of sex. The fact that he had not had any sex for quite some time was an anomaly. So, too, was the fact that he turned down a chance to have some earlier that afternoon.

_We're gonna have sex in your childhood bedroom, a place where you've probably only had sex with yourself,_ Natasha announced to him, pushing him down onto an intricately-wrought quilt, homemade by the hands of Leery women two generations before.

_Is it that obvious?_ he asked with wry amusement, though into his head surged an image of Joey Potter at fifteen, lying innocuous next to him, while he stared up at the ceiling, willing any baser instincts away. During that initial pubescent time, those were reserved only for Katie Couric. It felt like incest to transfer them over to his childhood friend.

_Doesn't take a rocket scientist,_ Natasha replied, sardonic, smattering kisses all over his face, down his neck, on his lips.

_Heh heh heh,_ Dawson chuckled, growing uncomfortable. Because then he remembered Joey at nineteen instead, flushed and sensual, lying beneath him in her darkened dorm room at Worthington College, doe eyes dewy with gentle lust and shining affection. _The thought of doing it in this room doesn't creep you out just a little bit? _he said to Natasha, shifting uneasily.

_Hell, no,_ Natasha exclaimed with a predatory grin. _Turns me on. Let's go, citizen._

But Dawson stopped her, believing he was still smarting from whatever he imagined might have happened between Natasha and Max Winter a few weeks hence. He saw her leaving that beefcake star's hotel room during the wee hours of a new day, too late for just platonic, too early for decent and genteel. But there was something more, a sense that somehow, without cognizance, "making love" had transformed into "just sex" in his life. That thought sat more apprehensive on his mind than even the possibility of no sex at all. So he and Natasha sparred over flings and egos. Dawson grew upset. Natasha left the room, flinging out caustic last words, leaving him in limbo.

_You know what? You crack me up, Dawson, because you stand here and you say these incredibly noble, incredibly self-aggrandizing things about how you don't want to play the game, when the truth is you brought me home for Christmas. And you can't tell me that you don't get some kind of perverse thrill out of showing me off to your friends and family. It's really quite a shame, Dawson, because there will be a day when you're old and gray and not even the Viagra's doing it for you anymore, and you could've looked back fondly on that time you banged the living daylights out of that actress in your childhood bedroom while she still had her looks. But I guess that's what you get for thinking with your brain when you really should be thinking with your-- well, I think you know._

Later, remnants of their fight slid right off Natasha's Teflon good looks, like hydra-droplets off slick celluloid. Starlets don't hold grudges. They can't afford to. A future film might come courtesy of that last fuck-me-booty-call. She sat on his left now, her hand caressing his knee, while his mom settled in the chair on his right, at the end of this long dinner table. Fourteen guests answered in the affirmative to the Leery invitation this year. Even Bodie and Bessie were here, snowbound in Capeside because of a wintry storm in Connecticut that would have made the long drive up treacherous. When they arrived with Mike Potter and Audrey Liddell in tow, sans Joey, Dawson was surprised, yet delighted. The entire Potter family was here, all together for once. The Potter family, plus one, minus another. Even Alexander was here, slumbering in his mom's room upstairs, along with a sleeping Lily. A baby intercom perched at Gale Leery's right hand and she kept a vigilant ear turned toward it.

When Jen and Grams arrived shortly after the Potter contingent, they too were heartily welcomed. The absence of the Ryans next door was sorely felt, so their current presence gave Gale a happy holiday boost. Stepping across the front door threshold next, Doug Witter brought a fine bottle of wine. A tardy Pacey followed, telling Dawson, _Joey's outside. With That Eddie Guy._ That forewarning was a relief, because the few minutes in-between Pacey's utterance and the actual arrival of Joey with her new beau allowed Dawson time to acclimate. Allowed him to be warm and polite upon their entrance. Joey sat across the table from him now, between Eddie, her current amour, and Pacey, a past one that happened to be his former best friend. Dawson cultivated a neutral detachment.

Seated directly across from him and having imbibed in liberal doses of eggnog supplemented with far more rum than his mother probably intended, Todd volunteered to say Christmas dinner grace. He had been making moon-eyes at his mother all afternoon. His_ mother._

_Speaking of all things beautiful, your mom's quite a handsome woman Leery. Do you mind if I have a go at her?_ Todd asked him earlier that day. What a freakin' nightmare _that _would be! Between Todd leering at his mother and his mother grilling Dawson about Natasha -- grilling Natasha too, about him! – Dawson was second-thinking his sanity. What on earth had possessed him to think bringing either – hell, both! – back to Capeside for the holidays was a good idea?

_Oh, well, that would be lovely, Todd. Thank you,_ his mother was saying. Dawson braced himself.

_Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the birth of your son, _Todd began, in a jaunty, slurry voice.

Todd Carr was having a quite a time having a go at an American Christmas. Dawson had a right fine hearth-and-house thing going here, replete with a mum that had rather fine milkers from what he could tell. He imagined Natasha's impressive set would age just as nicely. In fact, perhaps Gale Leery's lissome looks would be the final destination for Natasha's someday, a wholly satisfactory conclusion for a female getting on in her years. Can't get any more Freud than that, Todd thought, cheeky, slipping a glance at young Mr. Leery. Todd arrived here the night before, knackered, but grateful for the respite. And Gale proved to have a brilliant liquor cabinet available, of which he had been imbibing generously since that afternoon. He wasn't daft – sustenance of this sort was entirely necessary. Especially since slappers weren't easily accessible to him in this tiny American town.

_Now I'm at a disadvantage here, not knowin' any of you. I'm sure you all know who I am. I am a filmmaker, celebrated on many continents, but I don't know any of you, which is a travesty because people like you, regular people, are my target audience._

Then Todd caught sight of a petite blonde female at the other end of the table.

Jen had gone to church that morning with Grams. She accompanied Grams out of curiosity but also out of affection. For years, Grams had been imploring her to come along to services, and after steady refusals, she stopped asking eventually. When Jen announced she would accompany Grams that morning, that fine woman almost had a coronary. She sat through service, aesthetically impressed with the bountiful holiday displays and flowers, but not so much with the ritual ceremony and the pulpit lecturing. Musing on the preacher's homily, Jen recalled how he hammered on about patience and grace and unconditional love. In the seat next to her, Audrey perched, barely sensible, her behavior straining Jen's own limits of tolerance. And that whiff of the overpowering aroma of vodka emanating from Audrey did not bode well either. So it was that Jen was thinking about spiritual things when Todd Carr interrupted her musings with an entirely more physical supposition, catching her off-guard.

_Except you, blondie. You look very familiar to me._

_You hit on me on a-- on a plane once from Boston to New York,_ she replied, instantly recalling that initial encounter from last summer, one she only told Jack about, to which he hooted at her, tenderly derisive.

_Did we shag?_ Todd asked next, eyeing her, appreciative.

Jen could feel all eyes swiveling toward her, especially Dawson's. She saw surprise then amusement take turns in his fixed gaze. And a little bit of apology snuck in as well. Grams, however, bristled in her chair, drawing herself up, rigid. Jen placed her hand on Grams' and squeezed it, silently inferring a plea to keep her thoughts unspoken. Reading the gesture correctly, Grams stayed quiet but frowned mightily.

_No,_ Jen said in response to Todd's question.

_Are you sure? Because I'm flashing on some sort of mile-high club activity._

Laughing now because really, it was ludicrous, Jen answered, _No, that wasn't me._

_Well, good, 'cause that'd be embarrassing,_ Todd concluded, looking relieved. The last thing he needed was a bad situation on his hands. The evil look Old Queen Mary, next to Blondie, was skewering him with was enough to have him bricking in no time.

Bodie chuckled, listening to this exchange. When his folks called this afternoon, telling him to stay in Capeside, afraid for his family's safety in traveling toward a fierce snowstorm, he wasn't sure how the evening was going to turn out. He enjoyed these Capeside get-togethers when they occurred around the holidays, the Ryans and the Leerys always dependable in their gathering all and sundry, but he was disappointed that they would not see his family – a rarity already, even moreso these days. The Potter girls always had some reason to keep themselves Capeside-bound – Bessie especially, with the B & B and even Joey, though she lived in Boston now. Not that it bothered Bodie all that much – after years of going back and forth between Capeside and Boston to maintain his culinary dual life, he had been taking on a more hands-on role and cultivating a distinctive menu at Leery's Fresh Fish. This allowed he and Bessie and Alexander more stability as a family, more normalcy as a household. Finally, they were settling down.

Plus, the lively discussion he had with Pacey tonight about the restaurant business engaged him to a degree he rarely was with anyone else. Pacey's growing business smarts and the cooking gifts he uncovered last year during his brief stint at Boston's top-rated though now defunct Civilization had Bodie hoping that Pacey would not write-off a culinary career just yet, though the stockbroker life seemed to suit him so far. He exuded great pride in his finance work. Bodie had always liked Pacey the best of Joey's friends and then boyfriends – and now friend again. Come to think of it, despite the current presence of Eddie, Joey's new boyfriend, whom he found pleasant enough, Bodie secretly hoped that Pacey's status would always remain flexible, always be a future option. Hell, one can never really know about these things.

In any case, Bodie thought, eyeing Todd at the opposite end of the table, a small smile perched on his lips, this merry gathering was proving much more amusing and interesting than he could have thought.

_Where was I, _that Brit-brat director continued. _Oh, yes, the birth of Christ. Let me start with what I am thankful for. I am thankful for Gale... for inviting us into her lovely home. And I am thankful to her progeny Dawson. Progeny. Progeny. Her progeny Dawson. This kid has been an invaluable member of my production team. He's helped me through one of the roughest productions known to god and man, and I love him. I love him very much, Dawson. And the funny thing is he's managed to get himself involved in a sexual relationship with a beautiful woman, which reminds me of my first film actually, except she was what we call underage, so we don't talk about that._

Oh good Lord, Gale thought, keeping her polite hostess expression plastered onto her face, but inside, feeling all sorts of upheaval. She was so excited when Dawson asked her if he could invite the director Todd Carr and the actress Natasha Kelly to this year's Thanksgiving feast. Real live celebrities in her house! But Todd was proving lewd and Natasha, somewhat crude. Sometimes appearances are better off at a distance.

Though it _was_ kind of nice having a man pay attention to her again. Especially a famous one. She would not indulge it, of course, but she often felt isolated and alone, her life reduced to being Dawson's widow-mother or Lily's single mommy. Despite her innate recoiling at involving herself with a colleague of Dawson's, the brief instance of being a hottie-mom made her feel wanted again. Not in the maternal way, but in the way a woman feels when a man is attracted to her. It had been a long time since she let herself be exposed to that, Mitch's death terminating her happily-sexed bliss. Her initial attempts at dating were rebuffed by Dawson last year. Maybe this was a sign that she was ready again. Ready to go out into that meet-and-mate world once more. Gale missed it.

_Todd?_ Dawson interrupted, as Todd looked poised to launch into yet another non-sequiter soliloquy.

_Yes, Dawson?_ Todd asked, pausing.

_Well, could we wrap it up?_ Dawson suggested, more than encouragingly.

_Forgive me,_ Todd replied, adding as he turned to the woman he had been admiring since he got here. _Forgive me, Gale._

_I, uh, have to say that I'm really impressed with what you've done with your life, Dawson_, Mike Potter intervened. _I mean, I've known this kid since he was running around making movies with a video camera. It's really amazing to see how far he's come,_

Mike had a deep fondness for the young blond film genius. He remembered Dawson as a dreamy little boy, always at Joey's side, the two of them inseparable. They came to him at Daleman one year, back when they were fifteen -- two young kids obviously in love and unaware of it. They reminded him of love's purity and innocence, of hope and comfort. When Joey asked him if he loved her, told him she wondered if anyone could love her, his heart was ripped to shreds, He _did_ love her, he told her, and Dawson loved her too. It pained him that his own descent into the dark side of drugs not only sent him back to prison, but caused a rift between his little girl and her golden boy. It never was the same after that.

_Thank you, Mr. Potter,_ Dawson responded. _That means a lot._

Mike heard that she fell in love with Pacey after she and Dawson broke up. That shocked him. Sheriff Witter's son had always been a mouthy, irascible, too-energetic little boy and though he liked him well enough, he could never see what it was that Joey found in him that made losing Dawson worth it. Granted, he never _saw_ Joey with Pacey. On the other hand, Lily always had a tender spot for that dark-haired scamp, even when he was constantly getting in trouble, often dragging Joey down with him. For some reason, those two could never keep their hands off each other, always tripping, hitting, punching and kicking. Only Dawson could ever make them keep the peace for periods at a time. But then, Pacey became her senior year high school boyfriend, and they stayed together for far longer than Dawson and Joey ever did. It baffled Mike.

But Mike enjoyed talking to Pacey earlier tonight, when he inquired as to his well-being. The young man really listened when Mike talked about how he was so grateful for this second chance to reconnect with his girls, to put his family back together again. _And I'm sure that they're happy that **you've **put yourself back together again, _Pacey said, clapping him on the shoulder, squeezing reassurance. It was a kind and considerate thing to say, accompanied by a warm, sincere gesture. Pacey's father was the one who sent him to prison twice, both times through every fault of his own, but despite his forbidding exterior and often brusque manner, Sheriff Witter was surprisingly compassionate about it, probably due to the long-standing acquaintance of their kids. That same empathetic streak seemed present in his son, who was probably putting it to good use in his obviously well-paying job.

Tonight, Pacey and Joey were sitting next to one another, comfortable and relaxed, their high school romance clearly under the bridge. She never talked about him, except in that throwaway manner one refers to a friend with great lasting affection. And the young Mr. Witter was doing very well for himself these days, if that BMW in the driveway were any indication. He seemed to have tempered that early overwrought bravado with a more casual, engaging charm. But then there was the fellow on the other side of Joey at the table. His daughter's present boyfriend, who was unemployed.

_Maybe you guys have an opening for Eddie here_, Mike said, directing his question to Todd and Dawson.

_You're looking for work, are you, Eddie?_ Dawson asked, shifting his gaze to Eddie, finally looking him right in the eye. Their official introduction was fleeting, consisting of a quick handshake and Dawson's hurried explanation that he needed to get back in the kitchen to help his mother with dinner. Even though dinner was already done.

_I like Eddie,_ Todd interjected, for he found his initial discussion with Eddie about the different kinds of beers in the world – as well as the spirited debate about the best of them -- to be exceedingly intriguing. Nothing like a bartender to pass the time with as one ingested all the contents of a household bar. It was like holding court with Queen Elizabeth about the bloody Crown Jewels, and equally precious. _We never found a replacement for Phil the P.A., did we?_

_Yeah, well, film's not really my thing, but thanks for thinking about me, Mr. Potter,_ Eddie replied, ill at ease though trying to come off neutral and polite.

_What **is** your thing, Eddie?_ Mike persisted, staring him down.

_Dad,_ Joey warned, throwing him a quelling look.

Joey felt the red flush rising from her chest, up her throat, and spreading onwards onto her cheeks. This just could **not **be happening! she thought, anger, embarrassment, and shame infusing her. Things had been going so well! After the awkward meeting of Pacey and Eddie out on the front lawn, the initial exchange between Dawson and Eddie was mercifully brief and civil. Audrey seemed well-medicated by her surreptitious boozing and Jen seemed to be keeping a vigilant eye on her, holding Grams' disapproval at bay. Plus, Bessie and Bodie were here, as well as Doug and Gale. Todd and Natasha were a surprise, but after an initial wariness, it became clear that they were content to restrict themselves to playing their current roles – she as Dawson's starlet-girlfriend; her as his college friend with a boy of her own. And Pacey had thankfully been Pacey, regaling her with funny anecdotes from his office life, good-naturedly allowing Eddie within that circle of laughter and warmth. Yes, things were going wonderfully, until this very moment.

_What? I'm curious,_ Mike said, holding his ground. He could feel the eyes of his older daughter and her husband-like boyfriend boring down on him as well, from the other end of the table. But he ignored that and stayed steadfast, gazing at Eddie Doling.

_No, you're not. You're being a dick,_ Joey countered, her emotions too full, she could not keep them from spilling out. She heard Bessie's barely audible gasp from down the way and a mumbled murmur from Bodie.

_Joey-_ Mike said, starting to reply to her stinging admonishment.

_Mr. Potter?_ Audrey interrupted, her arm raised high, her loud voice carrying.

Mike paused to look at the blonde on the other end of the table. _Yes, Audrey?_

_Can I ask you another question about prison?_

Audrey had been watching them all evening, this tribe of Capesiders. After the requisite exchange of exes greetings (Pacey, genuine and kind with a fleeting hug, before taking himself to the other side of the room, far away from her; Dawson shaking Eddie's hand in passing, not even sparing him a full-face glance, squeezing Joey's elbow before rushing by), Jen body-guarded her from the masses, keeping her restricted to small talk about classes, about her boring job at the crisis-center, about a stupid homily from some morning church service. But Audrey still caught those clandestine glances, tossed from former or past lovers and back again, thrown always when a face was averted, a back was turned. She witnessed all the unguarded glimpses of reaction and feeling from brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers and sorta-husbands and old friends before folks schooled expressions back to neutral. They say when drunk, one misses nuances, sees things in a blur, but Audrey heartily disagreed. She had the best, most clear, and only unobstructed view in this house.

So when she shot her arm up in the air to ask Mike Potter a question, she was addressing only one of those somethings she saw, that everyone else were willfully blinding themselves toward.

_Sure, Audrey,_ Mike yielded, focusing his attention upon her.

_Yeah,_ Audrey reiterated, taking the floor, intent upon setting at least one record straight. _So... why is it that you don't think Eddie's good enough for your daughter? _Screw ole fatherly Scrooge for throwing judgment onto his princess' new male-minion.

_Audrey,_ Joey warned. _Back off._

Audrey blinked, thrown by Joey's tone. _What is your problem, princess? _she asked, defensive. _I was sticking up for Joe Dirt over there._

And then, _This isn't gonna end well,_ Pacey muttered.

Audrey suddenly felt a well of resentment break into a wave cascading outward.

_Would you shut up, Pacey!_ she snapped, the venom of her words strong enough to cause whiplash.

Politeness drained out of Pacey's expression, replaced by a cold, hard stare.

_You're out of line, Audrey,_ he said, his face like granite.

_Of course I am. Anyone messes with the one that got away, and you get all up on your high horse, don't you?_

Just beyond Pacey's shoulder, Audrey saw a startled look chased off fast by a mirroring glare on Joey's face. Joey, who was sitting right next to Pacey, as always. Those twin looks, side by side, doubled Audrey's outrage, casting her back to a darkened dorm hallway and two hands clasped on a window-bench, resting on a bent knee. They had never, ever let go. Next to Joey, over her shoulder, Eddie's face bore a look of confusion that shifted to quick inquisition then a growing comprehension. Audrey recognized that look too, another mirror, this one for her. Yet before she could get a word in edgewise, Jen interrupted.

_Audrey,_ she said, her tone urging caution, attempting intervention.

Audrey transposed her upset elsewhere, taking this convenient outlet.

_Oh, excellent. Another party heard from. What's your problem, Lindley?_

Jen's expression hardened, just a little bit.

_I think **you're** the one with the problem,_ she replied, her voice edgy. Meanwhile, she squeezed Grams' hand beneath the table. Hard.

Grams was pissed. Jennifer told her all about this girl's troubles, had explained her poor-little-rich-girl background, the problems with Joey this semester, the bad break-up with that dear boy, Pacey. But this malice, here, was completely misdirected. Her grand-daughter did not deserve any kind of tongue-lashing from the likes of this Liddell person, self-destructive demons notwithstanding. Still, Jennifer was almost squashing her hand, keeping her tight-lipped, though she longed to unleash a diatribe worthy of the best of fire-and-brimstone around Audrey's ungrateful head. Out of respect for Jennifer's unspoken query to keep silent, she fell back on scripture instead. "Pursue peace with all men, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord: looking diligently lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up cause trouble, and by this many become defiled." Hebrews 12:14,15.

_Oh. Devilishly clever of you_, Audrey continued, taking on a derisive tone. _Oh, honey, are you still upset that I shagged your dream boy? Because I **am** sorry about that._

Grams clutched Jen's hand like a lifeline. "Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamour, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God in Christ also forgave you." Ephesians 4:31,32.

_What are you even doing here?_ Jen asked, frustration and annoyance, unhindered. She pressed Grams' hand in return, also holding on.

_I missed my flight, bitch, which is really terribly unfortunate because if you think that spending Christmas here on Walton mountain is my idea of a good time, then you all are about as high as I am right now,_ Audrey spat out at her last remaining champion, now deserting her too.

She called Jennifer a _bitch_. Grams closed her eyes and gnashed her teeth together so hard, her cheeks ached. "Then Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do'." Luke 23:34. Beside her, Jen checked a natural impulse to slap Audrey, pushing past her rage to pity instead. Audrey was having a meltdown, right here, at the Leery's Christmas dinner table. Having had her own share of meltdowns in the past, she recognized it immediately. Pacey was right; this would _not_end well.

Meanwhile, Bessie watched the proceedings, askance. What the hell had just been unleashed here at the dinner table? For once, she had her father home, her sister home, Bodie in town for the holidays. Joey had a cute new boyfriend, finally moving on beyond Capeside. Pacey was doing well with his finance wizardry, completely self-sufficient. Dawson was making movies with big-time directors and making out with up-and-coming starlets. The Ryans were back in town for a little while, bringing along a much-missed grounding presence. And she and Doug finally found some time to catch up and talk about old times, of their high school days, of the Senior Prom they attended together as friends, which they remembered now, laughing. They were such good pals back then. Yet even though they both still remained in the same small town, circumstances drove distance between them, her father's arrests by his father keeping a wedge ever-present. And then Bodie was in her life and she had Alexander and there was never any time for anything else after that.

_Audrey, why don't you go lay down?_ Gale was saying, trying to cut off any further havoc.

_Oh, you know, thanks for that, Gale, really, but I think I'm kind of just getting started here,_ Audrey responded, warming to her task. _Do any of you have any idea how incredibly hypocritical this whole little gathering is? I mean, I may be flying high on a pleasingly potent cocktail of vodka and painkillers-- and thank you, by the way, Gale, for the painkillers-_

Startled, Gale sent a guilty look over to her son who looked completely blind-sided.

_-but I seem to be seeing things a little bit clearer than any of you,_ Audrey continued. _Dawson. Pacey. You guys hate each other, don't you? You're never going to be able to-- to mend this little rift that exists between the two of you, so why do you even bother with the charade?_

Oh _shit_! Doug thought, reading that same exclamation off the faces of Bodie, Bessie, Jen and Joey. Especially Joey. The younger Miss Potter looked equal measures outraged, embarrassed and appalled. All three emotions were warring on her face and she was getting her ass whipped in that battling. Gale wore a pained expression. Mike Potter reeked bewilderment. Mrs. Ryan had her eyes closed, her face a mask of inward concentration, almost beatific. Eddie, that poor, unsuspecting fellow, cast his gaze back and forth between Dawson and Pacey, those two willfully keeping their own gazes from seeking out the other.

That feud had been long-simmering, hit its flashpoint that one spring years ago, fell to muted afterwards. Doug didn't know how the fallout really affected Pacey, nor Joey either. They never really talked about it after the summer he and she sailed away, though he tried to be encouraging in his support of them. Those two brought out the best in each other, though eventually it was their worst that sabotaged their teenage romance. He and Gretchen talked about it that summer Pacey sailed away, alone, to the Caribbean, discussed how they were still so young yet, they couldn't see what was real. They needed to do more growing up. And Dawson did too. Yet the love of the same girl by two boys was one of those eternal epic conflicts that apparently still held thrall with these three, even in dilution. But right now, his brother was glowering at his most recent blonde ex-girlfriend, his body tense and coiled, while Joey snuck concerned glances at his taut countenance. However, Audrey wasn't finished.

_And Dawson and Joey._ Audrey laughed, her levity falling like sledgehammers on all assembled. _Here you are, both of you, all grown up and so very pleased with yourselves, and each with your little significant other by your side respectively, and while, you know, I will give you that it does make for a pretty picture, the truth of the matter is you guys finally slept together, and you've never really dealt with it, and neither of you are going to be able to have a relationship with anyone else until you just finally deal with your crap once and for all._

Holy fucking shit! thought Natasha, unable to keep a wicked glee from suffusing her entire being. She thanked Dawson much earlier in the day for taking her deep into the heartland for an old-school American Christmas, for introducing her to his mother, who she found to be quite a trip with all her grilling (as if she were Contestant #1 in the Great Sweepstakes for her precious son!), for actually thinking a girl like her, a "fast" girl, a girl that ate up pretty boys just for the fun of it, warranted an old-fashioned, respectful holiday with the family. Then he spurned her advances in his bedroom upstairs that afternoon and she was put-out, annoyed with his high-handed expectations.

However, _this_ put a whole 'nother face on things. Natasha knew all about his boning his old high school girlfriend on the sly back in September. They had breezed by that incident, once all the hurt pride was addressed and mollified. But the fact that she had also been nailed by a mutual friend of theirs, that he was a former best friend from childhood, that he was sitting right here at this table (and was _quite _delicious, Natasha observed, grinning), was utter comedy. Straight-laced Dawson Leery had quite the sordid past staring straight at him tonight! And that delightfully drunk but brutally truthful blonde roommate of Joey's was tearing off any blinders with ruthless precision.

_-and as for you, Pacey,_ Audrey continued, unrelenting. _I am really sorry that Audrey Hepburn next to you broke your heart all those years ago, and it's prevented you from ever fully committing to an adult relationship, but you know what? Just grow up. Merry Christmas, scum suckers. Peace. Out._

Lurching to her feet, Audrey stormed away from the dinner table and out into the foyer, pausing only to grab Pacey's car keys on her way, unbeknownst to those stunned survivors of her vengeful hurricane back in the dining room. After a long moment, Dawson was the first to break the strained quiet.

_Well, _he said, dryly, _that was fun._

With unforced gaiety, Todd took it upon himself to proclaim, _Merry Christmas!_

Outside, the snow crunched loud and crisp beneath Audrey's shoes. She stumbled several times, falling into the cold, laughing hysterical. The wetness sliced the chill into her face, turned her hair into whips slashing at her cheeks, sharp and biting.

_I'm a Grinch, I'm a Grouch, I'm a Grinch, I'm a Grouch,_ the sing-song voices in her head chorused merrily as she staggered to Pacey's BMW. She turned off the car alarm with a quick press of a button and then lurched her way into the front seat, slamming the door closed. _I'm a Grinch, I'm a Grouch,_ she continued to herself as she fumbled to put the key into the ignition. She laughed again, a loud, keening sound, and turned that key to start the engine. _I'm a **bitch.**_ Audrey wanted to cry. She floored the gas instead.

Inside, they had just started to pass the food around, intent on having a merry meal despite the mayhem that had just passed. But the sound of a car accelerating rode over all of them.

_Pacey, isn't that your car?_ Doug asked, recognizing that signature noise.

And suddenly, Pacey's BMW presented itself into the Leery's living room, adjacent to the dining room, announcing itself with a crash, a splintering of wood, an explosion of plaster, a shattering of glass, and the screeching of brakes finally found. As bodies leaped to their feet, in varying degrees of flight, surprise, concern, and horror, Audrey climbed out of the car, her lip bleeding, her forehead bruised.

_Yeah. I kinda think I zagged when I should have zigged,_ she said, tottering over to a couch – strangely still pristine – and throwing herself down onto it.

Upstairs, Alexander and Lily began to wail, raining down their awakened howls on all below them.


	4. Chapter 4

Pacey was livid. As the others scattered to and fro – Gale and Bessie upstairs to tend to squalling infants; Bodie, Doug and Mike toward the car with the crumpled shell and the shattered windows; Jen, Joey and Grams to the inert, bleeding blonde draped on the couch; Dawson and Todd to the yawning hole in the house; Natasha to an unmolested corner, watching everyone else, wry and fascinated; Eddie hovering by the table, unsure of where to go -- Pacey stood on the threshold, grasping hard at his sanity, glanced up and saw mistletoe hanging overhead. Fucking holiday curses, he thought, savagely swearing under his breath.

Later, when Audrey was taken upstairs, her surface wounds tended to and bandaged, Jen dispatched to hold watch, a reluctant guardian, Pacey found Doug and asked him not to charge Audrey, took her burdens onto himself, one more time. Dumbfounded, Doug countered him, accused him of looking for a quick fix. _You want me to sweep this under the rug? Fine, I'll do that. I don't know what good that's gonna accomplish because Audrey is gonna live to drink and drive another day. And you know what? It may not end up so happy next time. Okay, if anybody asks, you did this, alright? New car, you lost control, you're a moron. People will believe you. Trust me._ Pacey thanked him, said he'd pay for anything, everything. But Doug wasn't finished with his lecturing. _You know, maybe I never told you this, Pacey, and if I didn't, I am so sorry, but last year, when you were a cook, I was proud of you. I was happy for you. I actually admired you, Pacey. There was something, I don't know, honest about it. Almost noble. Guess it didn't suit you, did it?_

Fucking Dougie _always_ had to twist that self-righteous knife in there, screwing him good. Pacey needed a drink, pronto.

_Look, Dawson, I'm sorry if I was reckless with your emotions,_ Natasha said. They stood in the foyer as she readied to leave his house, to leave him. _I didn't mean to be. I thought we were having fun. I don't-- I don't love you. I never did. It was fun. Sleeping with you made me feel sexy and beautiful, and, to be honest, I never thought it would last much past wrap._ Dawson responded in kind. _Yeah. Well... you know what? I don't love you either._

Natasha gazed at him, benevolent, soft-eyed. _Of course you don't, silly,_ she agreed. _Listen, you're not built for this kind of relationship. It's kind of what I dig about you. I am too young and too self-absorbed to be entangled in something so serious, and if I'm too young, **you're** way too young. You know, you're gonna make some girl's dreams come true someday, in a big way, which is why I have to stop this now before I break your heart and turn you into a bitter cynic._

He told her to get over herself, sort of, and she smiled, said her goodbyes. They hugged, good-natured, this farewell a mutual agreement. He was fond of Natasha, of what she represented, his first real leap into unmitigated manhood. She held respect for Dawson, for his ideals, though she did not believe in them. After Dawson walked her out, saw her to her car, he watched her drive off, then turned and saw Joey talking to Eddie out on the lawn.

_Because it was…it was all too much too soon,_ Eddie said to Joey, still absorbing the import of all that was exposed before him as an appetizer before the meal that never was. _I shouldn't be dealing with a father who thinks I'm a loser. I shouldn't be dealing with all of the ghosts of relationships past. It's too much. You know, I—I--we need to be in the here and now._

_Okay,_ Joey reassured him. _Well, then, that's what we'll do. From now on, we'll be in the here and now, I promise. Okay?_

_You know, the same thing would have happened if you were at my house,_ Eddie continued. _I mean, you'd meet my family, and they'd be very impressed, but also very suspicious because you are so damn beautiful, and they'd wonder, "What the hell is she doing with Eddie?" And after, when you were gone... they'd pull me aside and they'd say, "What the hell are you doing, kid? That girl's gonna break your heart."_

Joey gazed at him, feelings trapped in her throat, and told him, _Eddie, I have no intention of breaking your heart._

_Yeah,_ Eddie responded, his thoughts still caught on a dark-haired man sitting at her elbow, her face glued to his averted profile. She never spared a glance at the blond man across the table. She never looked at him, either. _Merry Christmas, Joey._

Eddie took his own leave-taking and did not look back.

So Joey went down to the end of the dock, finding Dawson. They acknowledged each other, stood stalwart while sharp chills and an encroaching freeze settled all around them.

_We never really dealt with what happened,_ Joey said, referring to the big secret that was not so secret, flung out onto the table by Audrey's unbound frankness. _I don't know about you, but I kinda put it all into a little box and pushed it far, far away._

_I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how it all went so wrong,_ Dawson told her, bemused.

_I spend a lot of time trying to forget we ever meant anything to each other,_ Joey tossed back, wry.

_Fair enough,_ Dawson countered. _I deserve that, I guess. _

Joey sighed. _No, you don't, and the thing is, Dawson, it never works. A night like this, it does put things into perspective. See... I think sometimes it's easy for me to kind of hate you because I know that you're out there, and if anything ever happened to me or if I ever really needed you, you'd be there for me._

_It's true,_ Dawson confirmed, steady.

_Dawson, if that's true, then how come we only ever end up hurting each other?_

_Well,_ he replied, _we're not hurting each other right now._

_Well... right now is an illusion. Right now it's a truce. But right now, I just want to stand here and talk to the one person who can maybe help me figure out how everything got this way. We can go back to hating each other in the morning. _

_Sounds like a plan,_ Dawson concurred.

Joey paused, then smiled, sheepish. _I don't really hate you, you know._

_I don't really hate you either,_ Dawson said, putting his arm around her.

Joey lay her head on his shoulder as the fresh snow started to fall.

Later, Joey went back into the Leery house, alone. The others bustled outside around the cars in the driveway while she stepped through that hole in the house, crunching debris and glass pieces underfoot. She just passed the threshold between the living room and the dining room when she saw Pacey lying on an unscathed section of the floor, perfectly content, just staring up at the ceiling.

"Pacey? What are you doing down there?" Joey inquired, amused.

"Holiday curses, Jo," Pacey whispered. "Everywhere."

"What did you say?" Joey asked, getting down on her knees, leaning closer to clarify his garbled uttering. Pacey's gaze fixed beyond and above them at the mistletoe hanging just overhead.

Then his eyes arrested hers, sudden, and Joey was caught, barely breathing. She knew what that look meant. Her present love left not even an hour earlier. Her first love awaited her outside, finally reconciled, out there in the snow, on her dock. But then,

"Holiday kisses," Pacey mumbled, changing his tone.

And this love wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down. It should have been a sloppy kiss, rough and awkward, given his inebriated state and her precarious, half-resisting balancing act above him. Yet it was soft, sweet, and gentle. Then it was firmer, delicious, and sensual. His tongue slipped through her lips, into her mouth, wrapping around within. Spiced rum and egg nog flavored this entangling, and the tinge of very potent vodka. Supplemental vodka shots, if she wasn't mistaken. Pacey always was a master at getting into the Leery liquor cabinet, locked or not.

Joey's response was, as always, an automatic yielding to Pacey's touch, no matter that the years past – and her own vigilant emotional lock-and-key -- had banished any long ago reminders of their former passion. She let herself surrender down to him, slid her own hands into his hair, those springy short locks, fingers itching to feel that silky texture again, palms curving around the warm round shape of his skull, pressing him against her face. His moustache and goatee tickled against her skin, around her mouth, upon her chin. Joey never was one for facial hair, but this soft scratchiness heightened the sensation of their mouths mingling together. She let out a tiny moan.

Pacey groaned in return and then his head dropped back, falling heavy to the floor, his eyes closed, blissful. His lips curved into a giddy closed-mouth smile. Then the rascal sighed, loud, and was still. Soon, he was snoring.

"Pace?" Joey leaned down, that pungent mixture of alcohol and egg-nog on his breath causing her to crinkle her nose, even though just seconds earlier, it tasted like nirvana.

Joey sat up, gazing down at his peaceful, slumbering face. She reached out a slim hand, brushing an errant lock from his forehead, letting the curling glossy softness wrap around her fingers for an instant. Then, she let one of those fingers trail gently across those impossibly long lashes of his. Thick, lush lashes any girl would envy. She envied them too. Pacey sighed again, sounding like the littlest boy in the world and Joey felt a clenching in her chest that traveled up to her throat. She swallowed.

When they were dating in high school, they assigned different levels of drunkenness to determine distinctions and thus, weigh options. Drunk Def Com 1 was a pleasant buzz, a jaunty good mood, but faculties intact, driving still an option. Drunk Def Com 2 was tipsy, idiot grins, voice a little loud, driving definitely _not_ recommended. Drunk Def Com 3 was stumbling, flailing limbs, squinty eyes, sometimes unknowingly yelling, and driving was an absolute impossibility. Drunk Def Com 4 was slurring words, suddenly vertical-challenged, blackouts and not remembering a thing the next morning, including whether one owned a car or not. From past experience of the various stages of drunkenness that Pacey could handle, Joey knew this one was definitely Drunk Def Com 4, highest level.

Doug came in and Joey stood up.

"I think Pacey's knocked out for the night," she told him.

The elder Witter caught the whiff of strong alcohol in the air and his expression shifted into disappointment, verging upon crest-fallen. But he caught himself, switching to proficient neutrality instead.

"Will you help me get him back my folks' house?" he asked Joey, his tone crisp and efficient.

"Sure, Doug," Joey said, leaning down to assist him in pulling Pacey up onto his feet.

"Our initial mode of transport, as you know, has been taken out of commission," Doug continued. "Gale and Lily are going to stay at the B & B for awhile until the repairs to the house are made. Dawson's going back with Jen and Grams in the morning. Natasha's already gone and Dawson took Todd with him. Your dad and all the others rode back in Grams' car and Dawson's Explorer. Bodie left his car behind for you."

The youngest Witter stayed insensible, a dead weight, but they managed to get him to the car and deposited at the Witter residence without further incident.

As Joey surmised, Pacey did not remember anything the next morning. When she called him up to see if any ill-effects had followed him into a new dawn, he just complained of a killer headache and told her all the details of clean up, car retrieval, and expensive house remodeling that he needed to set into motion. The following day, she drove him back to Boston and he talked about the office politics he was not keen to get back to while she discussed her upcoming semester and some hopeful plans for New Year's. At one point, Pacey fixed a narrowed-eye speculative look upon her, but when she snapped at him to stop giving her the "evil eye," he shrugged as if pushing away an unlikely conjecture, dismissing it completely. Then he fell asleep, leaving her in welcome silence for the rest of the journey. She filled with all sorts of thoughts and wonderings.

Joey wanted Eddie to lift all curses when it came to her previously forlorn love life. Yet a niggling sense remained, entrenching itself. It was _Pacey's_ kiss that felt like a blessing.

And though he might not remember, she most assuredly did.

**THE END**


End file.
